Alone
by tir-synni
Summary: Naruto never imagined he would do this, but then, he underestimated how powerful loneliness really is. ?xNaruto


Title: Alone  
Author: tir-synni  
Disclaimer: Considering the only thing I can do in Japanese is cuss and say hello, I don't think I'm the creator of a Japanese series.  
Author Notes: While I like angst in my fics, this is a whole new variety for me . . . and a very unusual pairing, too.  
Warning: Lemon, angst, slash, disturbing content, shota-con, OOC.  
Addy: relisprince(at)hotmail(dot)com

Alone

**T**he definition of "alone" is different for everyone, I guess. From what I've seen, the

Hidden Leaf village is full of loners, and I suppose they each fit their own definition of "alone."

There's Sasuke, Neiji, and there's also Gaara of the Sand. For my definition, I consider myself

alone. Sure, there's Iruka-sensei. He does his best to stand beside me, to help me, to . . . well,

be there for me. And I love him for it. He does so much for me. But by my definition, it

doesn't mean too much. Kyuubi will always be there, and he'll always keep Iruka-sensei from

getting too close. Iruka-sensei has even said that he considers Kyuubi and me two separate

beings. I know he thinks he loves me, but how can he when he hates the fox demon so much?

We're one, our thoughts, emotions, and souls hopelessly mixed. Heh. Kyuubi's the reason I

love ramen so much. He took one bite out of the stuff, and I've been having wild cravings ever

since . . . although I didn't know that was the reason at the time. He's so much a part of me that

I don't know where he ends and I begin. When I first found out he was there, I became so

hopeful . . . and then realized it meant nothing. Kyuubi affects me, he protects me, he heals me,

but he can't keep me company or ward the loneliness and pain away. Hell, he's the one who

brings the loneliness. A lot of the adults know Kyuubi's within me, and they warn their kids and

the other adults to stay away from me. They hold me personally responsible for all Kyuubi's

sins. This creates my definition of being alone. When you're surrounded by people who

despise you, the people who dare to care about you hate or fear you at the same time they say

kind words, and your companion for life is so separated from you that, even when you're together,

you're forever apart.

Sometimes, that loneliness gets to be too much. I know it won't change anything in the

long run, but I still want people to look at me, let me know I exist! And sometimes, they touch

me, even if it is only to smack me in the head. Iruka, as much as I love him, doesn't understand

how badly I need to be touched, and I don't want to initiate it. Maybe he doesn't touch me

because he fears how close the fox is to the surface. I dunno. All I know is, I love when

someone pays attention to me, and I adore it when they touch me. If I need to be punished to get

this type of attention, then hell, I'll do it!

And . . . well . . . this is better than being punished, right? I mean, he pays attention to

me, he touches me, and best of all, he isn't making fun of me. This is better, right?

I do my damnedest to convince myself of this when he bites especially hard on the

junction between my shoulder and neck, resting more of his weight on me. He pressed me down

into the mattress, and I feel his teeth draw blood. After so many times of him doing that, I'm

beginning to think he's the one with the predator in him, not me.

I moan in pain, but the sound is lost in the pillow. I'm always hiding my face in the

pillow, almost never facing him. We both prefer it that way. We both know we shouldn't be

doing this. It makes us both feel better when we can't see with whom we're doing this.

Right?

I feel his cock between my cheeks, but he doesn't push it in yet. Surprisingly, he never

rushes it. I come in, the room is dark, I settle myself, and we work our way from there. Never

once has he immediately fucked me. He usually bites my shoulder first, then plays with my

body a bit. I'm not complaining, no! It feels good, and I like being touched. But. . . .

I moan loudly against the pillow when he starts toying with my nipples again. His long

fingers scrape against my chest before pinching the hard nubs. When we first started this, I never

imagined it would feel so good! He pinches, he pulls, he rakes his nails against them . . . I cry

out softly as he starts yanking gently at one, pulling it a little away from my chest before

releasing it. Pain and pleasure spiral around my chest. I've tried doing this alone after he

originally showed me this. I always stop quickly.

It was an accident when we started this. Neither of us meant to do it! We were both just

. . . so lonely. . . .

His other hand rakes down my chest and toys with my belly button. I sob softly, feeling

his fingers slipping carefully over the seal. Not even my dick is as sensitive as my lower belly.

Always, he treats it so gently, like if he pressed too hard, the seal would shatter. But it feels so

good! He rubs it, and my whole body shudders, liquid heat burning inside me. But, as always,

he doesn't stay there long.

It's kinda sad. After everything we've done, Sasuke is still the only person who has ever

kissed me. And even then, it was by accident. Something never mentioned by either of us again,

no matter how sweet his lips were. I wonder if he knows that he's claimed my first and only

kiss? Probably my last kiss, too? Does he even know? Does he even care?

I never get kissed. That would mean he has to see my face.

I keen low in the back of my throat when he finally grabs the base of my dick. Behind

me, I can feel his own dick slowly easing down my crack, heading for my entrance. He hasn't

prepared me, something I know makes him uncomfortable. I don't care. He has lube on him to

prevent major friction. The demon fox within me will keep him from injuring me too badly, and

after all this time, I know I'm not tight enough to harm him. I need the pain. I need to know

he's truly there, that I'm not really alone. That's why I let him bite me as much as he wants,

even when I feel the blood dribbling down my back.

His hand pumps slowly, and I moan, allowing it to distract me from the erection poking

me. Heh. The pervert. He knows exactly how to move, probably due to so much experience

with his own cock. Ohhhh . . . his hand is calloused and firm. It's worth it, this feeling has to

be worth it!

I know who he wants to do this to, just like he knows whom I want in return. He doesn't

need the Sharingan to see through me; it's easy for a person to recognize one of their own. After

seeing those lovelorn eyes in the mirror every morning, I could see the familiar emotion in his

one visible eye. It was that empathy that brought us together, in the beginning. It's desperation

that keeps us together.

I can feel that desperation in me now, growing with each rough stroke of his hand. I can

sense his desperation, pulsing against my entrance, breathing hard into the bloody wound on

my shoulder. The thick, wet head of his cock shivers before piercing me. He pauses for the

barest moment before shoving the rest of the way inside me. I drown my scream in the pillow.

If he heard it, he pays it no mind. Even with the power of the Ninetails, I can feel the blood

dripping down my thighs. Lightning arcs up my spine. In the beginning, there is no pleasure,

only pain.

I love it.

My cock never softens under his hand. He keeps stroking it, now in time with the harsh

thrusts inside of me. I hear my own voice, begging shamelessly for more. His grunts answer

me.

Maybe Sakura-chan is right, maybe I am a masochist. But the pain . . . Don't they

understand? The feeling is so much sharper than any pleasure, racing through my veins. This

pain lets me know he's here with me. Long after he leaves, that pain will remain, even if it fades

into just a memory. Still more potent than the pleasure.

His teeth grind harder into my shoulder as his thrusts grow erratic. His hand tightens

around the base of my cock. I arch into his touch, my voice rising in a scream. Yes, oh yes,

more! Please, give me this! Please!

The thick head of his cock slams into that small bundle of nerves inside of me, again and

again and again. My voice grows hoarse, but in the morning, it will be fully restored, just like

the skin on my shoulder. All the more reason to enjoy this now.

His whole body is shuddering, and I shake within his firm grip. He's going to come, I

know he is, I can feel it. Please, give me release, don't leave me alone. Just a little longer, just a

little more.

He slams hard into me, one more time, and I surrender myself to the whiteness creeping

into my sight. The world spins, pleasure and agony lighting each nerve on fire as I spill onto the

plain sheets. I feel him inside me, pouring his essence but not an ounce of himself. Tears

burning my eyes, I collapse onto the soiled futon. Fresh blood erupts from my shoulder as his

teeth bite even harder before pulling away.

I don't see his face. He doesn't see mine. I tune out the sound of him cleaning himself,

instead concentrating on the feel of semen and blood soaking my body.

This . . . has to be worth it.

He walks out of the room without a word. I let him.

One day, he'll walk out of the room and never return. He'll get up the guts to speak, and

then this mockery will be over. And then the only hands I will ever feel on my body will be my

own.

Surely . . . any touch has to be better than none, right?

I don't know why I'm crying. All I know is I can't stop.


End file.
